


Want is Full Contact

by victoriousscarf



Series: Stars and Cinders [7]
Category: DCU, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Past Dick/Slade but they don't get too much touching here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There's a darkness in you that wasn't there before,” Kal said and Dick wanted to ignore him.</p>
<p>“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, punching the bag another time. Usually Jedi relied on their katas, which required no physical contact. But they still trained in other forms of combat and the boxing bags were there, though mostly only younglings used them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want is Full Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Kata is a term I've seen in the star wars eu and fanfiction a lot and lacking a better one it's what I'm going for here. 
> 
> There's some references to Jason and as a result of writing this out of order those scenes aren't actually written yet whoops.

“There's a darkness in you that wasn't there before,” Kal said and Dick wanted to ignore him.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, punching the bag another time. Usually Jedi relied on their katas, which required no physical contact. But they still trained in other forms of combat and the boxing bags were there, though mostly only younglings used them.

“Yes you do,” Kal said and Dick stopped finally, sweat dripping into his eyes. Panting, he rested his head on the bag, hands resting on it as he tried to catch his breath. He hated the fact he'd wanted _contact_ with something badly enough he had chosen this over the katas. “I'm worried for you.”

“It's fine,” Dick murmured.

“Are you fine?” Kal protested, and Dick could feel the anger sometimes, seeping across the bond at the back of his mind. Even with the layers of shields, sometimes it came through and he knew it wasn't his own. His own had a different texture and feel to it. This one felt like black ooze at the back of his throat.

He wondered if it went both ways. If sometimes Slade felt compassion sliding into the back of his own mind. That thought made Dick smile, even if he thought it unlikely, and berated himself for even thinking it.

“I can control it,” he said instead.

He didn't dare turn around to see Kal's face. “With Jason—”

“Don't,” Dick murmured.

“It is dangerous for you out there—”

Dick pushed himself off the back, and this anger was all his own. “So what do you want me to do? Do you expect me to stay in the Temple? Hide away and hope everyone forgets about me? I'm a Jedi, Master Kal. I will not give that up. I have to help people.”

“This darkness only came after you returned your encounter with that gangster,” Kal said, gaze steady. Dick didn't wince about the lie he'd told about Slade. 

“I can control it,” Dick said and felt the flash of fear that maybe someone would find out, would recognize the thing at the back of his mind that didn't belong to him. “I am still a Jedi.”

“But if you meet--” Kal started.

Dick wanted to shake because that was the thing of his dreams and nightmares. Sometimes he woke up, hot and aching from the emptiness around him. He wanted, as wrong as it had been, as stupid as it had been and as cruel as it had been, for someone to hold him. To trace their hands down his arms and around his waist and to cover his form with theirs.

But other nights he woke up with a scream at the back of his throat and anger that did not fully belong to him and the taste of smoke and blood on his tongue.

“I can take care of myself,” he said instead.

“You could stay here a while, you know,” Kal said. “Take a padawan—”

“No,” Dick said immediately.

“Jedi knights—”

“No,” Dick repeated.

“Bruce said the same thing, said he didn't want a padawan—”

“And when I say it I actually mean it,” Dick said and turned to brush past Kal. “If you'll excuse me,” he said, not looking at him. “I must clean up for this afternoon.”

“Of course,” Kal said softly and let him go. Dick refused to turn back and see what his expression was.

-0-

He woke up with a scream stuck in his throat, and in the dark he held his hands in front of his face until he was convinced there was no blood on them.

Rolling out of bed he spent several minutes on his knees with his head in his hands, repeating the Jedi code under his breath. Finally he rose, dressed with shaking hands, and went to find Kal. Luckily, he was already awake and practicing his own katas.

“I need a ship,” Dick said, when Kal caught sight of him and nodded.

He had never seen a Jedi Master actually stumble out of a kata.

“Excuse me?” Kal asked, turning to face him and regaining his balance.

“I need a ship,” Dick said. “There is a mission for me on the Outer Rim.”

“Has there been a transmission?” Kal asked. “I have heard no—”

“It was in my dreams,” Dick said, and forced himself to meet Kal's eyes when his eyebrows went up. Force visions had never been Dick or Bruce's strength. Dick had powerful foresight in the immediate future, enough to duck an oncoming blow before his opponent even thought of it, he had never been known for visions of the future beyond that.

“You should take someone with you,” Kal said with a frown.

“No,” Dick said too quickly.

“Knight Grayson,” Kal said, infusing his voice with enough formality Dick winced. “You're asking me to send a Knight out alone, with no idea where you're going, or how long you'll be gone, to fight something that you say in a vision—your first if I'm not mistaken—that has you shaking like a leaf.”

Dick hadn't even realized he was still shaking.

“Please,” he said. “I know—I must go alone.”

“You must understand why I don't have much faith in that.”

“I know,” Dick said softly. “Please.”

Later he would notice Kal gave in a little too quickly.

-0-

Once on the Outer Rim, Dick only had an idea of where Slade was, a vague description.

However, plenty of people were willing to point the Jedi toward the massacring Sith, even if their eyes were sullen and distrustful.

Dick was hard pressed to decide who distrusted the Jedi more: the Outer Rim or the Inner Rim.

But for once that did not matter, because Slade had broken his usual pattern, from targets assassinations to complete slaughter. Dick had put another layer of shielding over the bond and followed the trail.

-0-

Kneeling down in front of a wall turned to rubble, Dick shifted through the pieces, noticing what looked like lightsaber burns on some of the fragments. He frowned, and the hand closing around his throat was a surprise. Jerking, he froze when he felt someone nuzzle against his ear and he could smell Slade—ozone and blood.

“You should not have come out here, Jedi,” Slade murmured.

“You picked up a new trick,” Dick said, caught between his crouch and standing with Slade's heavy hand still against his windpipe. There had been no warning in the Force that Slade was behind him, and even now he couldn't sense him. Opening the bond only slightly, he could sense Slade through that but otherwise he might as well not have been standing there.

“I'm surprised they let you out of their temple,” Slade said, and Dick could feel his breath against his neck. He tried not to shiver. “Why did you come out here, little Jedi?”

“Why are you massacring entire villages?” Dick asked. Slade had hopped over several planets, wiping out villages seemingly at random before moving to another planet.

Slade laughed and it was warm and low. His fingers had started to stroke Dick's neck. “And how did you know about that?”

“It leaked into my dreams,” Dick said and Slade laughed again.

“Ah. I know you've been trying to close down the bond. Not quite working, then?”

“You know it's not,” Dick snapped, because sometimes Slade sent images to him, violently enough to seep through the restraints he'd tried to put around it. One time it had been of Slade and a humanoid boy with dark hair, who moaned more wantonly than Dick had ever.

Most of the time it was violence, assassinations that Dick was too far away to do anything about.

“I've missed you,” Slade said. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Dick froze, panic rising up in his throat before he shoved Slade back with an elbow to his ribs. They scuffled for a moment, until Dick could straighten and turn to glare at him. “This isn't just about me,” he said, hoping it was true. “Not even you would kill so many just to get one Jedi.”

Slade leaned back, crossing his arms and smiling. “This is further out than most Jedi come.”

“So?” Dick asked.

“I was hired to,” Slade added and Dick frowned. “Come on, boy, put it together.”

“You're killing these people for profit,” Dick said and felt like he was going to be sick. “Because a marauding Sith—whoever hired you planned to be the one to stop you, didn't they?”

“All carefully arranged,” Slade said and Dick couldn't stop the surge of anger that went through him. He threw himself forward, lightsabers out and Slade was ready, his red blade up and waiting. He was a solid weight, and fast, but Dick was faster and lighter, pushing himself up and off walls, Slade deflecting him no matter which angle he came from.

They fought through the village, homes burning and empty of life aside from them.

“Children,” Dick said. “You killed _children_. For money.”

“Others would kill them,” Slade said, shoving Dick back with the Force in the middle of one of his jumps, sending him back in a heap when he couldn't catch his balance. He rolled out of the way when Slade brought his blade down, barely getting to his feet in time for the next blow. “It is naive to think children would be safe.”

“It goes against what you usually believe in,” Dick said and the hilt of Slade's lightsaber caught him in the cheek. He staggered, his back hitting a wall and before he could twist away Slade was there, pushing him all the way back against it.

He squirmed, his blades still in his hands and shrieked when Slade sent Force lightning through the hand pressed against Dick's chest. Panting, he tried to focus when Slade pulled his hand back, almost blacked out from the pain.

“Tell me,” Slade said, conversationally. “Has anyone else touched you since I left you?”

“You know they haven't,” Dick managed, because the one time—the one time—he had shoved Jason away, almost across the room, the bond burning like acid and fear in the back of his throat.

“Good,” Slade murmured, and there were still huge black spots behind Dick's eyes when Slade stroked his cheek. “I would have killed them.”

“I know,” Dick said.

He realized Slade was peeling back the layers of his shields from the inside a moment before Slade shoved into his mind. He thought he might have screamed again but suddenly Slade was being pulled back and he collapsed into a heap on the ground.

Shaking his head and trying to clear those spots, he looked up to see a bright yellow blade swing through the air, attacking Slade and forcing him back. Dick knew the shoulders standing over him now, and he shook his head again, pulling himself upright using the wall and all his willpower.

Roy caught his eyes, and Dick nodded, a tiny dip of his chin and gathered the Force around himself, sparing a touch of it to bolster his energy and heal where the lightning had touched. But most of it was focused on shifting the ground underneath Slade, causing a cave in and Slade, shocked, went tumbling in, Roy after him.

Swaying, Dick tried to concentrate on Slade again, picking him up with the Force and spinning him around while Roy took care of physically attacking. But they were moving further away and Dick felt a Force induced migraine starting behind his eyes as his body started sliding down the wall again. He saw Roy turn to look back at him as Slade threw the Force out, catching Roy in the chest with a burst of lightning and throwing him back toward Dick.

Then Dick's body gave out.

-0-

He woke up to see Roy peering down at him. “You are so stupid,” Roy declared.

“Look who's talking,” Dick said and Roy just shook his head.

“This time, I wasn't the one knocked out for two days,” Roy said. “The healers are going to be thrilled. The only time he hit me with lightning was to distract me and make sure he had enough of a lead.” Roy tapped Dick's chest and he glanced down, seeing the lightning scars spreading out from the center of his chest, fine white lines against his darker skin. “You, he hit pretty hard with it. The healers think those usually fade with time. I may have made a couple panicked transmissions.”

“What happened?” Dick asked, pushing himself on his elbows and Roy pushed him right back down.

“Stars, Dick, don't be so stupid.”

“What happened?” Dick repeated, eyes narrowed.

“He ran,” Roy sighed. “Really ran. The Temple has sent a couple other Knights out but they're reporting basically nothing. He's apparently good at going to ground.”

“He was hired,” Dick started.

“Yeah, that got exposed,” Roy said. “Should have seen that kriffing warlord's face when he stepped out to be a savior and walked into several Jedi Knights instead. Thought he could earn the affection of the people by saving them from the Sith he hired. Stars, I hope he stays in a dark cell for, well, basically ever.”

“But he didn't succeed,” Dick said, letting himself sink back down and not trying to get up again.

“Yeah, congratulations on stopping that,” Roy said. “Though I'm still piecing together how you got out there.”

“Dream,” Dick murmured.

“That was the Sith that captured you that one time, wasn't it?” Roy said and Dick tensed all over. “When you were still a padawan?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, because the second time, he had lied through his teeth, made up a dozen different excuses and somehow they had believed him when he said he had been captured by a gangster, not a Sith. He had spent the next six cycles working on that lie, and finally took down the gangster who happened to have Force dampening technology and had been threatening him and the Order for quite some time.

“Do you think that's why you had a vision of him?” Roy asked.

“Yes,” Dick said, because it was true in it's own way.

Roy frowned. “You've never talked about that, you know,” he said, folding his arms and Dick focused on the golden stripes at his collar instead of his face.

“There's nothing worth saying,” he said, throat dry.

“He still seems interested in you,” Roy said. “You've been—well—even more distant lately. And I'm worried. After this—”

“Why were you there, anyway?” Dick asked, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look at him at all.

He could hear the rustle when Roy shrugged through and it was so familiar Dick felt the back of his throat tighten. “Master Kal-El sent me. You insisted on going alone but—”

“Thank you,” Dick said instead. “For being there.”

“Yeah, how about you avoid getting scorched by a Sith for a while?”

Dick could feel the tendrils of the bond, content and annoyed at the same time, the rage pressing against the edge of his shields like a caress.

“I'll try,” he said.

  
  


  
  


 


End file.
